Marrying His Rival: The Heiress's Sweet Revenge

For seven years, I hid my identity as the sole heiress to the Carlisle fortune, running a small bakery in Brooklyn to secretly fund my boyfriend's hockey career.

Just as he became a star player, I checked our joint account to plan a celebration, only to find the balance sitting at exactly $1.37.

He had secretly wired millions of my money to his mistress and their three-year-old son.

When I confronted him with the evidence, he didn't even try to apologize.

"Scarlett is my savior. Let's just part on good terms. Name your price, how much do you want?"

He scoffed at my silence, mocking me as a broke baker, and ruthlessly kicked me out of the luxury penthouse—completely unaware that I was the one who had paid for it.

I had dropped out of an Ivy League school and sold my grandmother's jewelry to support him through his lowest points, only to realize I was just a walking ATM and the unwitting backdrop for his real family.

Looking at his condescending face, my shattered heart finally turned to dust.

I didn't scream, cry, or beg like he expected.

I simply packed my suitcase, walked out into the cold night, and dialed a number I knew by heart.

"Mom, I'll agree to the marriage with the Montgomery family."

It was time to marry his biggest rival and show him exactly who he had crossed.